The Few
by strawberry22
Summary: Coming into the futuristic Wizarding World, Harry soon finds out just how much the Ministry will do to keep things in their control. Nothing is ever quite as it appears. AU
1. Comprehending Evil

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with J.K. Rowling's work but I enjoy borrowing it from time to time.

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-Prologue-

Comprehending Evil

By Strawberry22

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The world is composed of shades of gray. There are a million different lines that divide what people call 'light' and 'dark'. Actions that people take can seem to border on these two opposing forces, blurring the answer to the supposedly predetermined and age-old question.

Are you good or evil?

For some people, this question is not so readily answered. And for others it's always at the tip of their tongues, waiting to defend themselves to those that ask.

In history, 'light' elitists always used a public declaration within text books to describe those who were noble, righteous and unselfish that would squash the cowardly forces of evil. They would build up this image of those ever so humbly powerful, saving the world from dark and lecherous things.

But where could you ever find a person that fit those qualities? How could the light side ever produce such a person when it wasn't possible in the first place? But those that consider themselves good always are quick to point an accusatory finger to those they see as evil and unfit to live within their society.

In every light person, no matter how 'good' they deem themselves, there is a small flicker of evil, waiting to be unleashed. And as well, within every evil person there is a light side trying desperately to the claw to the surface.

People forget that at one time or another they once were good, evil and everything in between before they landed in their satisfying role in life. But for even those that can see and comprehend the complexities of the forces in the world, even they forget and get set in their ways.

Though it has been said that people should not accuse any before looking within themselves, time has made the original message unclear and indistinct causing those persons to act upon rash thinking.

And as the saying goes…

History has a way of repeating itself.

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A.N.Reviewing would be appreciated. 


	2. Times a’ Changing

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with J.K. Rowling's work but I enjoy borrowing it from time to time.

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Times a' Changing

By Strawberry22

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Change is always inevitable. It will come no matter how hard one tries to persuade it otherwise. The wizarding world in the future years had change dramatically from its previous old-fashion status. And it only took a mere second for a dark haired teenager to fully recognize this fact. 

For Harry Potter, Diagon Alley was completely unrecognizable. In fact, he would of assumed that he was in another location if it weren't for Ollivander's ancient sign hiding among the many updated store fronts lining the crowed street. Harry was in shock as he scanned the people filling the roadway. Moments before he was working on completing a Advance Charm's Project with Hermione, when Neville decided to stop by. But with Neville, things are never so simple.

After defeating Voldemort, in a combined effort of the Order of the Phoenix and nameless and abundant witches and wizards, the wizarding world was once more safe from harm and evil. When Voldemort died, every person wearing the dark mark was overcome by a terrible and dark curse. Even Snape the traitor of the order, could not outlive the flesh consuming curse that Voldemort used as a fail-safe. Harry was happy, that for a while, he could be normal. And with his cursed scar disappearing after Voldemort's death, from his forehead, it made thing all the more easier. As for his project with Hermione, the ministry was willing to let the heroes from the war a little leeway when it came to their final project. Graduation for the seventh year had just occurred that afternoon and Harry and Hermione was just wrapping up the project details. Everything would of went fine if it weren't for Neville's clumsiness and his gravitational pull he had towards the complex time-turner Harry was carefully observing. As it was, Harry could only assumed that between the rather horrendous tackle Neville had accomplished and the loud sound of glass breaking, that he was transported into another time and place.

Looking down, Harry could see remnants of the magical sand on his robes, but the slight breeze was blowing most of it away already. Still looking dumbfounded, Harry was not to gently shoved to the side causing him to fall to the cobbled stone ground. '_At least the ground is the same. I can always count on it being hard,_' Harry thought sarcastically.

"Watch where you're going young man!" said a older women snobbishly, clearly being the one to push by him.

Without a further glance, she strolled off in her magenta robes purposely towards Gringotts, all the while muttering about youth and their incompetence now days. Harry righted himself and moved to a more secluded area where could ponder his dilemma, all the while pulling up the hood on his cloak. It would not bode well if he was to be recognized, whatever time it was. As far as Harry could tell, he was in the far future and with the time turner he was working on broken, he had no means of returning to his own time. Harry cringed when he thought about how many permission forms and waivers he had to obtain before receiving the specialize time-turner. The time turner he had was calibrated in years instead of the usual hours or days. Harry cringed again thinking about the amount of laws that were broken by the transportation of himself into time.

While trying to formulate a plan, Harry observed the crowed market. The people in the streets were dressed slightly different than the style used to be. Their robes were more clean cut, in solid bold colors. Gone were the eccentricities that went with the Wizardry World and its culture. The whole alleyway had a modern feel to it and Harry could only think of one word to describe it. Petunia. She was always cleaning the kitchen till a person could see their reflection in every surface. 'Cleanliness is Happiness' is what she would always say. And that is what Diagon Alley transformed into.

If the science fiction books stacked in Dudley second bedroom had anything to say about the future, Diagon Alley would be the embodiment of it. So many style were introduced to this world but to Harry, it was all foreign.

Harry looked down at himself and hoped that his Hogwarts robes would be similar enough to the presents. He would be having enough trouble trying to blend in until he could find way back home. Looking over to his right, Harry spotted a newspaper in a rubbish bend. Grateful for his luck, he walked over and discreetly pulled it out and looked at the front page.

**Minister signs another Ordinance**

By Anna Push

_Today the Minister of Magic, William Dominus, signed the latest Ordinance for the Gen law passed last year. The Minster said during his ceremonial speech, "Such things are important for the smoother running of our society. Ever since the last siege, measurements have been taken to eradicate unbecoming behavior from the wizardly world. These new ordinances will ensure the completion of that." _

_In an interview given recently, the Minister is said to be planning on introducing more laws such as this one, at the next annual Wizengamot meeting…_

Harry, after only a quick glance was utterly confused. Shifting his focus to elsewhere on the paper, Harry thought it would be better if he didn't know to much about the future and its workings, just incase it could effect time in any way. Instead, hoping to find the date, he looked at the top corner of the newest addition of the Daily Prophet and promptly dropped the paper back down into the bin.

June 1 3, 2098

Harry had surpassed shock and went into a numb state of mind. A hundred years had passed since he last saw his friends but for him it was only a blink of an eye. How things have changed! Thinking about his friends Harry began to worry. Though most wizards and witches live beyond the normal amount for muggles, a hundred years was an considerable number.

Shaking his head, Harry could see that dusk was coming and the street was thinning out. Walking towards the brick wall, Harry only hoped that the Leaky Cauldron was still there.

Luckily enough, there was still a inn there but it was no longer called the Leaky Cauldron. Instead it the sign proclaimed it to be the _Cauponula. _Insidethe interior was similar to Diagon Alley when it came to the sterile feeling. When Harry walked in, he felt the quietness surround him even though there was about 20 patrons littering the bar and dining area. Stepping up to the registry, the women behind the counter glanced up from her paper.

"Need a room?" she asked in a gruff voice as she put away the newspaper. "The fee is 3 galleons a night and its extra for meals served in your room."

Pulling up her ledger, she started inking the appropriate dates. Once she filled out what was necessary, she handed Harry a small bit of parchment that had the Gringott's seal on the top. Below the seal, it had a place where his ink thumbprint and besides that, the parchment was blank. After a few seconds of inactivity from her bewildered customer, the women grabbed Harry's thumb with an exasperated sigh and place in where it was indicated.

Harry waited for something for happen. He assumed that this was some sort of debiting device used now for Gringotts clients. A few minutes of tense waiting, the innkeeper's face was clearly displaying her confusion.

"Strange," she muttered under her breath as she took the parchment back.

"What's strange?" asked Harry though he sure he already knew. He was not very surprise that the parchment didn't work in the way it was suppose to. In all truth, Harry would have been missing for over a hundred years, if not presumed dead and there is no knowing what happened to all his assets.

"The Accounter has always worked. I have never seen it have no response before," the women said baffled. "I haven't had that happen to me in over 20 years!"

Giving a nervous chuckle, Harry quickly did a search for any coins in his pockets. Finally, after locating a couple in his cloak pocket, he was extremely glad for forgetting about them from the Hogmeade Day the students had just the weekend before.

"Don't worry about it. I have some galleons here." Handing the gold coins over to the women, he stashed the remaining in his jeans with the few Muggle pounds he had. Thinking about the amount leftover, Harry hoped he could find someone to help him return or he wouldn't have enough money to stay anywhere soon.

"Sign right here and here and then I can take you to your room." said the women.

She had the ledger faced towards Harry while she handed him a pen-like device. Staring at the pen-reincarnate, Harry thought of two things at once. One, that obviously the use of quills was outdated and two, he would have to think of an alias when he was in this time period. Taking the pen from the lady's hand, he wrote the first name that came naturally.

Closing the book, the innkeeper grabbed a key from a rack and lead Harry up a sleek staircase. The halls were a crisp white and the doors were a neutral gray color with black numbers labeling them. Stopping at number 11, the women quickly opened the door and handed him the key.

"Did you just graduate from Hogwarts?" the older women asked with curiosity.

Harry, giving an affirmative nod the women went on with, "I thought the train wasn't suppose to return until tomorrow."

"I had to come home early because of my Aunt. She's very sick," Harry said thinking quickly. The women gave Harry an understanding look.

"Well, I hope you have an enjoyable evening Mr. Evans." And with that she left back towards the staircase and to her desk.

Harry spent the night in room number 11. He felt like he was in a tin can. Everywhere there was metal, molded into a new bizarre looking shapes. There was a bed but Harry determined after sleeping on it, that he would of rather have slept on the floor. After freshening up, he looked out the window at Muggle London. The buildings outside were very similar to Diagon alley. All new and nothing old. The once concrete and wooden structures that once stood there were replaced with boring box-type buildings. They seemed to reach the sky but didn't look one bit appealing. The streets were surprisingly clean, free of the rubbish that would always seem to collect around the edges.

Harry looked out at the world of tomorrow and saw it was a drab and colorless place to be in, if the architecture had anything to say about it. Only the people walking the street gave it life. The clothes were much different and nothing like he had ever seen. Like the wizardly community, muggles seem to adapt to more brighter and solid colors. Red seemed to be more propionate than the other smatterings of purple, green and blue.

Sighing, Harry walked out of his room door and went down the hall, luckily not meeting any other patrons on the way. Coming down the stairs, Harry spotted the inn keeper just as she looked up. Breakfast was over and the dining hall was empty of occupants.

"Ah, Mr. Evans," she said coming closer, "will you be staying anther night?"

"No, I don't think so, but thank you for anyway." Harry said once again pulling up his Hogwarts cloak. He spotted the complementary bowl of fruit on the desk and nicked an apple from the bunch for later. Harry thanked the Lady and she gave a small nod in return.

When Harry was about to leave the inn through the Muggle entrance the women said, "Don't forget the code Sir." While stacking some breakfast dishes to be washed the women and continued with, " It wouldn't due good for you to be in trouble with the ministry so soon after graduating. "

Harry looked at the women with confusion. He had absolutely no clue as to what she was referring to. A code? Obviously it was important if Harry would be deemed in trouble with the law. He was tempted to ask what she was talking about but just then another patron came into the previously deserted room.

Before the women could comment further Harry said with more confidence than he felt, "Don't worry Madame, I will be taking care it shortly." And with that he quickly turned and stalked out of the room, his cloak billowing behind him, eerily reminiscent of Snape.

Walking the streets of London was a very new to Harry. Even when he was living at the Dursleys, they would rarely take him to London, let alone walk about. The people walking on the walkways were courteous enough but they would completely ignore Harry. He would of felt out of place with his long cloak but strangely enough, he saw many muggles wearing similar styles. The only thing that differed, was the color. Nobody in the street as far as Harry could see was wearing black, and that is what singled him out. Harry realizing this problem, darted to a dark alleyway between to buildings and pulled out his wand. Color charms were never his forte but in a pinch he could pull off some basic colors. Once he did the incantation, his robes turned to a darker shade of maroon.

Stepping back into the mainstream, Harry felt more confident about not being noticed . Walking towards the old tube station use to be, Harry only hoped that something was there to transport him closer to the ministry. Harry would of appratated but he didn't quite know what things have change, or even if the ministry building was still there, where it was in his own time. And the knights bus was out of the question. They would ask to many questions before he could right out his situation.

Using the Muggle way, by hover car, was not something Harry wanted to try out any time soon. The cars were jet across the sky, anywhere from 35 above his head to what seemed to be 150 feet. And above the stream of traffic was airplanes or what seemed to look like airplanes. The once roadways were replaced with massive walkways and parking spots. Taking a deep breath, Harry was amazed to realize that the dangerous smog that was abundant in London was gone and fresh air was all that Harry breathed in. So many changes had happened to his country, some good and some bad but to Harry this is what he would call a brighter future.

Reaching the Rail station was easy enough and what Harry found was something reminiscent of a bullet train. Pulling out some of his Muggle money, he paid for a ticket and step towards the platform. It took Harry but a moment to realize that the people were congregating in groups according to the color of clothing they were wearing. Finding this extremely odd, Harry looked around the group he was standing in. He was smack dab in the middle of a rather large group of green wearing persons and Harry stuck out like a sore thumb. He noticed too, that some of them were openly glaring at him, making Harry fidget somewhat. It brought on the feelings of lowness that only the Dursleys could normally achieve when looking at him. Stepping back from the group with a muttered, "Sorry," Harry went further down the platform and found a group similar in color to his own.

Harry didn't think that this new turn of events would bode well for him. Being segregated like this was reminding him of some of the stories that he would have to read in the history books in grammar school. But putting it aside, he watched as their trained arrived. It was so quick coming in, that Harry didn't think it was stopping at first. That was until it just instantly froze. Harry thought his eye were closed or something because in a blink of an eye the whole train had just stopped moving, and without a sound.

Getting on the train was easy enough, Harry just sat down on one of the benches provided and waiting until it started. It only took a minute for all the passengers to get loaded. The train then was suddenly moving, it was going so fast it felt like he was standing still. After about five seconds, the train stopped at the first departure.

Harry was downright amazed at the speediness of the train but quickly looked down at his ticket stub to make sure he didn't miss his stop. After about 5 of these stops, Harry arrived at his destination. He departed the station and briskly moved toward the area with the phone box. Harry hoped that he would find something or another there but he could not be too sure.

Nothing look familiar. All the shops lining the streets were replaced with the boring, perfectly aligned structures. Harry decided to just keep walking until he recognized something. After a few blocks Harry determined that this was the general area but when he reached where the phone box should be, it was not. Nothing was there. Just the large walk way and a few sleek cars in parking spots.

Searching for anything that looked remotely magical, he walked along the general area. But soon he grew tired of peering endlessly into buildings and bushes alike for any trace of an entrance. Harry sat down on a bench and rubbed his eyes gently, careful not to disturb his contact lenses. When Harry returned from his sixth year from Hogwarts he decided that he was going to get in better shape, mentally and physically. And trading in the old black spectacles was the first thing to change, but he was happy with the difference and never went back..

Sitting back and watching the people rush by with their busy lives, Harry wondered if he would ever get home. As much as this time was interesting, He longed for the twisted alleyways of Diagon alley and the old Victorian feel it always had about it. Now it just felt sterile and cold.

Still watching the sidewalk with a frown, Harry's attention was caught by person wearing something that looked like Hogwarts robe. Thinking about earlier he realized just how much he stood out in a crowd wearing his Hogwarts uniform. Not believing his luck, Harry jumped up from the bench and ran to catch up with the person.

Running by several people, Harry caught up with the student and said after getting the persons attention, "You wouldn't happen to know the entrance to the Ministry?"

The boy, no older than 14, looked at Harry with the most peculiar expression in his brown eyes. The boy pause clearly contemplating on whether or not Harry was a Muggle but soon determined an answer. His sandy hair flopped about when he nodded his head. "The MOM entrance is just this way. I'm actually going there too, if you want to follow me."

"Thank you," Harry said with relief.

The boy, whose name was Todd Creedal, showed Harry the way into the Ministry. The entrance was strangely enough via a more updated phone booth a block down. Harry passed by it in his search earlier, not even recognizing what the device did. The procedures were different for getting access into the building though. Instead of speaking into the phone after dialing the number, a witch or wizard only had to use a fingerprint scanner device that looked like something he once saw on the tele.

The boy stepped up and pushed his right thumb to the pad. The machine analyzed it and after a second it spit out a badge with his name on the front, with several colors lining the bottom. When the boy gestured for Harry to do the same, Harry hesitated. Any number of things could happen if he was to be scanned. From being jailed to simply being denied access to the building. But there was only one way to find out. Pushing his thumb to the pad, he felt a tingle go through it as the machine scanned it. Moments later it also spit out a badge, much to Harry's relief. Grabbing the badge Harry looked at the name, but was amazed to find that it said:

Unknown

Visitor pass for: 2 hours

Use complete comprehension scan for further details.

Pinning it on his shirt, the phone booth lowered into the ground. When doors slide open, Harry was greeting by the Ministry of Magic. Out of all the things in this time period to change, the atrium was no one of them. The walls, ceilings and floors were just as he remember them. The only differences was the Magical brethren statue was no longer adorning the hall but instead a normal looking fountain. Along the walls , Harry spotted the floo network and the apparition points . On the opposite wall Harry saw statues depicting Wizardly heroes. Coming out of the phone booth, Harry walked toward the main desk next to the security checkpoint. Todd Creedal rush off after a quick parting remark toward a door to Harry's left. His eyebrow shooting up, Harry wondered what that was all about but was cut short of the thought when his turn in line was up.

At the desk was a blond witch with blue eyes and the nameplate in the front identified her as Brenda Jennings. She glance briefly up at him before saying in a monotone voice, "Afternoon Sir, what's your business here today at the Ministry?"

Becoming aware that he didn't know what or who to ask for, Harry said on the fly, "Um, could I have an appointment with the Department of Mysteries?"

Whatever the witch was expecting, it was not that. She looked finally from her paperwork and weighed Harry's appearance with a shocked expression. Brenda looked at his nametag also and finally said with a false smile, "Why don't you just wait over there while I see what I can do." Pointing towards the wall with the heroes, the women waited till Harry was on his way before picking up a phone a pushing in a number quickly.

Finding the witch weird, Harry turned away and strode across the atrium to reach the first statue. It was a marble rendition of Merlin himself, with a bronze plaque on the bottom depicting his history and good works. The next was a Healer by the name of Percival Viken. Apparently he was famous for curing the most magical diseases. Strolling along Harry, took in several others statues before he came to one. It was tucked into a corner and clearly had been neglected.

The statue was of a younger man wearing glasses. None of the other statues were this young, most being older in years. But this one had to be no older than 15 at most. Harry stared at the strange smirk the statue seemed to be displaying on its stone face. Finding the look revolting and reminding him too much of Draco Malfoy, Harry looked down at the bronze plaque with its history. Harry blinked twice before he comprehended the name on the base.

Harry James Potter

Defender of Light

July 31, 1980- Jun 13, 1998

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A.N. Reviews are like chocolate and I'm a chocoholic. Feed my addiction! 


	3. Silence

Disclaimer: I possess nothing but the need to thank Jo Rowling. She's awesome!

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Silence

By Strawberry22

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Harry had never been so speechless in his entire life. His mouth hung open with shock for a few seconds before he promptly snapped it shut. He realized something as he stared at his own bronzed living and death dates; That he had supposedly died the day he went forward into time. This small revelation alone played havoc in Harry's mind. Does that mean he never returned? Is he going to die before seeing his friends and his right time once more? Since his time and history has already happened, Harry knew that according to the wizardly world, Harry Potter was no longer existing after June 13, 1998, but surely there had to be an explanation for it. Looking further down on the plaque, Harry read the brief synopsis on himself. 

_**Harry James Potter was born in the waning years of Voldemort's first rise in Power. Incredibly, at the tender age of 15 months, he survived a killing curse and vanquished his attacker, Voldemort himself. Harry is most likely to be known as the Boy-Who-Lived through his childhood and well into his teenage years. When the Second Rise of the Dark Lord occurred, Harry and a select group of citizens-also known as The Order of the Phoenix lead by Albus Dumbledore- battled in the war against them and valiantly fought in the Final Battle, where Harry Potter once again and permanently vanquished the Dark Lord and his unforgiving soul. Harry Potters death, just months after the Final Battle, is a mystery that was never solved.** _

Harry had been staring at the words for a while when he heard a little commotion happening behind him. Coming out of the security checkpoint door, was several of what appeared to be Aurors. Their robes were different but the respect the four of them commanded when walking the Atrium was evident. Harry watched as they all stopped at the appointment desk and said a few words to Brenda, the secretary there. After a minute, she looked up at Harry and pointed the Aurors towards him. Now Harry was utterly confused. But he had no time to contemplate the problem, because the four of them seemed to jumped to one side of the atrium, to where he was currently standing in a blink of an eye.

"Sir," the large blond haired man in the front said, "we would like you to come with us." The three others went to Harry's sides and behind him, as if Harry would try to escape and disappear right there and then.

The people in the atrium were staring at the spectacle before them, wondering what the young dark haired man was being lead away for. Even one little girl tugged on her parents robes and asked, "Mommy is he a criminal?" before being shushed by her mother.

"What is this about?" Harry ask in confusion as the team lead him through the security door.

Without looking at Harry and continuing the walk towards the elevator, one Auror on Harry's right side answered with, "If you would please just follow us."

The elevator that Harry could fondly remember once riding with Mr. Weasley was still in its place but much more modern. Looking up at the ceiling, Harry didn't see any Interdepartmental Memo Airplanes that use to catch rides on the lift. Harry supposed that after a hundred years, the ministry probably found a faster and more secure way of sending in-office memos.

"What are you looking at?" said the Auror behind him, losing a bit of his professional stand-offishness. The others looked too at Harry and then at the ceiling. The Auror that asked the question, was obviously a rookie, his young attributes coming out strong in his face and demeanor. The other Aurors though, were similar in age, around thirty years or so.

Harry looked at younger man and replied, " Oh, just remembering the Airplane memos."

The Aurors glanced at one another hoping for further explanation but couldn't think of one. After clearing his throat in a reply, rather than warrant an answer to the outrageous comment, the Aurors said nothing further. Their floor had finally arrived, the elevator announcing it as _'Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement,_' in a brisk feminine voice, and with that one of the men grabbed Harry's arm and lead him out into the department. The disorderly of the offices still resembled what they once were, tiny desks and papers and files stack everywhere in piles. The trio of men marched Harry through the busy office lead by the younger Auror. Most of the workers never even looked up from their desks but a few could be seen peeking up with curiosity.

Finally reaching a stopping point, the Aurors scanned Harry with a couple charms and in the end, took his nametag and wand much to Harry's protest. While emptying the rest of his pockets, they also procured his money and the juicy red apple his took from the inn. Asking the question on his mind was screaming at, Harry said, "What am I here for?"

The Aurors didn't even look at him as they completely ignored what he said. Pushing him to the back wall lined with doors, they guided into a small room. It was a very tiny space; it only had a table and two chairs. Harry assumed that this was a integration room, the only thing that it was lacking was the two-way mirror the muggles on the tele always used. It was dark, ominous and the feeling was elevated tenfold when the group of men left Harry and shut the only door with a snap.

Harry sat in the very uncomfortable metal chair for a few minutes pondering if this waiting they were making him do was a technique the Aurors used. He was confused as to why he was in trouble but he was not going down without a fight, no matter what. Harry's Griffindor personality was coming out in his thoughts, marking the different excuses and various defense curses in his head. During the War, Harry made it a practice to evaluate every sceneries and find out possible strategies to employ. Judging by the rights they have already relieved Harry of, this was a serious problem. Determining that silence was his best bet, Harry did nothing.

The room was so silent it was deafening. Harry was starting to get nervous and aggravated inwardly before realizing that the quiet was merely another technique the interrogators were using. They were waiting for him to do something, anything that would show his irritation, making him more pliable to questioning. So with that thought in mind, it reinforced his previous assumptions. Harry sat perfectly still, not moving an inch, keeping his face blank of expression. He waited for an hour without any contact before a man enter the small dank room.

A middle-aged man, walked in and sat in the other uncomfortable chair, across from Harry. Leaning back with his arms folded over his robes, the slightly rotund man, gave the older dark haired teen a look that showed his displeasure of the situation and nothing else. Harry opted to stare elsewhere, still not betraying his feelings, just incase this person knew Occulmency. After a minute, the official ended his sizing up of Harry, and leaned forward across the table toward him.

"Who are you?" he said in a demanding tone. Harry continued staring pass the man and at the wall as if he never said a word, opting for silence until he could find someone that could help him. This man surely was not it.

"Who are you!" the man repeated, his voice rising in decimal while slamming his fists on the cold surface of the table separating them. The man stood up from his sitting position and walked around the table getting into Harry's face.

"Who are you! Tell me now!" spat out the very angry man, spittle landing on Harry's cheek. His face was becoming a lovely shade of purple in his annoyance.

Harry, being known for his temper could not stand for the man to invade his space, let alone spit on him a moment further. Turning his head slowly, Harry stared at the plump person before him, oddly enough reminding him of his Uncle Vernon, and countered with very quiet and deadly voice, "Who are you?"

Harry's dislike of the man was clearly conveyed in that small question; So much so, that the official stepped back from his encroaching position and said instead with a deadly glare of his own, "It does not matter who I am, only who you are. Now answer the question!"

Reining in his temper, Harry turned his head back toward the wall he had been staring at all afternoon and remained silent for the rest of the plump official's rant. The man went on for an hour or so, trying to get something out of him. The official used various methods of trying to pry something from him but to Harry after the war with Voldemort and all that it entailed, this was child's play. At times, Harry could tell that the man would love nothing better than to throttle him, but the slightly balding man never laid a finger on him. Finally losing his steam and evidently his patience, the man stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Harry sat in his hard chair. He was in trouble but had no way out. If he were to tell the wrong person about his time turner escapades, there is no knowing what would happen to him. Inside, he was at his wits end trying to find a scrap of knowledge or tactic that could lead him out of his problem. Obviously, his earlier plan of trying to reach the department of Mysteries was a bad choice. Harry sat in the dark and dank room, alone once again, without saying a word but inside he was in turmoil.

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Looking out of the two-way wall, the Head of the Auror Department, Christopher Miles, watched the young man take the verbal abuse from his best interrogator. Never had he seen anyone withstand the 'Terminator' as he was best known around the department. But this young man seem to be oblivious to it all. 

"Remarkable," he said under his breath. Turning his head to the leader of the group that lead the peculiar teen into the department and asked, "Are you absolutely sure you preformed all the charms when you brought him in?"

"Yes Sir, I did. Even some of the glamour detections. The only spell work he had on him was a old blood protection charm. His wand was confiscated, also along with some money, an apple and his visitor badge," said the Auror reading off the list.

"Let me see the badge," said Miles with an extension of his hand. The Auror pulled out the evidence bag and handed him the nametag. Looking down, Miles scrutinized the rectangular identifying pin. For hundreds of years, The Ministry of Magic had employed the security function of the visitor passes for all those entering the building. And in all of Christopher Miles life, he had never saw one without a name.

Handing it back to the Auror to put back into the evidence bag, he spotted the teens wand and said, "Put that wand through full diagnostics. Find out who the maker is and damn it, find out who this person is!" The Junior jumped at the command and left the observation room at once. Turning back towards the two-way wall, Miles watched as the dark haired teen looked straight back at him with an unwavering stare. Once again muttering the words, 'Remarkable' to himself, Miles could only wonder who this person was. Friend, foe, spy or by some off chance, a rather unlucky fool who just happened to land himself into one of the most well kept secrets of the ministry.

* * *

Harry stared at the wall, at one particular stone that had a misshapen edge to it, for the rest of the afternoon. The chubby official came back a few times, to irritate him a bit, but Harry paid him no attention. As the time slowly crawled by, Harry wished he ate something before coming here or at least took a nimble of the apple. His stomach was starting to ache when door opened once again. Thinking it was the blob from hell again, Harry paid no mind to the becoming frequent intrusion. That was until he heard the visitor calmly sit down. Several minutes went by before Harry gave in a turn his head somewhat to view the visitor. Without showing the surprise going through him at the sight of the new man, Harry turned fully to take in his appearance. 

If Harry was to expect anything in this new imprisonment he was experiencing, the beholding sight of Neville Longbottom would not be one of them. The man could have been Neville's twin. From his hair color down to the slight curl of his lips, the man was the embodiment of the clumsy friend of his.

Losing his stony exterior Harry asked with quiet curiosity, "Who are you?"

* * *

Miles sat across from him saw the conflicting emotions of recognition and at the same time unfamiliarity in the older teens eyes. Deciding to be straight, he answered honestly. 

" To answer your question, my name is Christopher Miles and I'm the Head the Auror Division. But the real question is why do you think you are here?" said Miles while staring at the teen intently.

He said nothing for a moment but then answered with barely contained irritation, "Sir, I really do not know why I am here. So if you would kindly inform me of the fact, it would be most appreciated."

Watching as he answered the question, and Miles determined that either this young man was an extremely good actor or he was telling the truth and really didn't know just how big of mess he landed himself into. Sighing , he leaned back in his chair and gave the raven locked young man a measuring glance.

Before Miles could ask another question, there was knock on the door. It opened a crack and the Head of the Aurors motioned for the Auror to come in. Stepping forward and whispering into the older mans ear, he relayed his message and left promptly after handing him a folder. Miles looked back at the teen across from him. Since coming into the room, the young man had not taken his eyes off Miles.

But after the revelation the messenger gave him, he had the ask, "What is your name young man?"

Searching Miles face, the older teen said nothing, preferring silence for his companion. Another pregnant pause went by between them. Miles, already observing just how much this teen can be stubborn, decided to break the silence.

"Well according to this," said Miles as he picked up the folder the messenger gave him, "You signed your name as James Evans when you stayed at the _Cauponula _last night. But you and I know that is not your real name because James Evans appeared at of thin air last night. No records found, making that name a fake."

The boys face still did not show anything, but Miles could see a flicker of something in his eyes when he called him James Evans. Miles took that as a conformation that the boy was indeed using that name but the lack of other information was becoming tiresome.

"Look," said Miles with sigh, "I don't know if you grasp just how much you are in trouble for but you better start talking an soon or you will find yourself lock up till the end of your days."

Standing up and shuffling the files back in order, Miles made to walk for the door but was stopped by the teens answer.

"Sir, I would help if you would tell me what exactly I'm in here for!" the dark haired teen repeated, his eyebrow furrowing in frustrated anger.

Miles only spared him a last glance and walked out of the interrogation room. Upon exiting, a junior Auror approached for instruction.

Miles sighed again. "Take him to the holding cell and don't let anyone in without my explicit instruction." With a nod, the junior Auror set off into the room and led the teen away.

'_How could he possibly not know what he had done? Surely he is not innocent!' _Miles thought. Withholding information and ignoring his best interrogator was not working in the boy's favor but something told Miles that the situation was not as it seemed. But with the facts in place and as Head of the Department, he had no choice but to proceed with the consequences until the teen gave up his stupid stubbornness and explained himself.

* * *

Harry was led away from the interrogation room and into a very small cell that had a bed in one corner and a toilet in the other. The door was shut behind him, sealing his fate for the time being. Walking to the rumpled looking bed, Harry sat down on the worn mattress with a tired sigh. The tin can of a room he had felt was suffocating last night, was never something he thought he would long for. But after a few minutes of the moss and scum covered cell, the sterile room at the inn was becoming beckoning palace. When leaving the inn this morning, he was not expecting the end of the day to amount to this. Sure, a little resistance was expected, but being jailed for some unknown reason was a definite bump in the road. 

The appearance of Christopher Miles was a surprise to Harry. The man had to be a close relative of some kind to Neville. Also when Miles called him on the alias he used, Harry could not be anymore shocked. Just how much did the man know of Harry 'appearing of thin air'?

Laying back on the dirty mattress with a disturbed sigh, Harry tried going to sleep but was having difficultly because of the hunger pains. But if living with Dursleys taught him anything, was the ability to ignore the ache that was a constant in Harry's childhood.

Harry knew that he seem to attract these types of situations through no fault of his own but it didn't make the handling of it any easier. He started to float down into a trouble sleep, his last thought being, ' _What have I done now?'  
_

* * *

A.N. Read and Review Please! 

Next Chapter: The Missing Person


	4. The Missing Person

Disclaimer: I talk the talk but I don't walk the walk

* * *

The Missing Person

By Strawberry22

* * *

Sitting at his desk, Christopher Miles, held his head in his tired hands. It was well past the witching hour and he longed for his soft comfortable bed at home. But since being called in on his day off, Miles, the Head of the Auror Division, had been nonstop bombarded with inquiries of every sort. And everyone of them had to do with James Evans. Or at least what that's the name he was going by.

A young man no older than 17 was sitting in a cell several rooms away for…well he really could not say. An unbreakable vow of silence was taken by all Heads of the Ministry and a few choice persons, including Brenda the secretary at the front appointment desk, knew select details so they can inform others if the secret was to become breeched. Every Head was notified at the occurrence the minute it happened, putting extreme pressure on Miles to find out and eliminate the cause for worry.

How Evans came by the information was impossible. Every reference, book, newspaper that dealt with it had quickly and quietly vanished to secure the secret. Which made the appearance of James such a pain in the arse. A normal investigation would be easy enough, but to ask the prisoner if they did anything wrong because the integrator couldn't outright say anything about the subject, made it a little more difficult.

Opening the folder a junior Auror gave him previously, he examine the findings from the wand the perpetrator was carrying. It was an 11 ½ inch holly wood wand. The core was unknown and the identifying marks of the maker was scraped away. This little detail alone, was making James Evans look all the more guilty. The last spell to be used with it was a highly illegal spell, not even taught at Hogwarts anymore for more than 50 years.

The only reason Miles recognized it was because of a case he worked as a rookie involved that same spell. The detection charm for that particular spell was not even used when bringing prisoners in, making Miles wonder if James used it on himself. Making a note in the file, he underlined the need to investigate in the morning.

Reading through the rest of the findings, nothing was found of use in the file. Closing it, Miles stood up and extinguished the candles with a muttered 'Nox'.

The few Aurors that knew about the case had to keep their mouths shut even in questioning, but there was one who had the liberty to speak freely. And Christopher Miles planned on calling on him, first thing in the morning. Walking towards the Apparition Point after enduring the elevator, Mile closed his eyes and wished he was a rookie again so he would have to deal with this. And with a loud crackle, he left the empty Ministry Atrium, not looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

Harry's sleep was disturbed by the loud clanking of the door opening to his cell. Morning for him, came none to soon. Tossing and turning all night, trying to find a comfortable position on the rock hard bed was playing havoc on his nerves. 

Opening a bleary eye, he could make out a person. But with the poor lighting and sleep just at the fringes of his mind, Harry could not tell who it was. Suddenly there was light, leaving no shadow uncovered.

"Wake up!" said a women who came in. "Time for breakfast." Harry could see that the women was holding tray of grayish looking porridge and a tin cup of water in one hand and her wand pointed straight at him in the other. Not wanting to make any trouble despite his grumpy mood, he stood up and took the tray from the women with a muttered 'thank you'. The women dressed in Auror robes and holding her wand still pointed at Harry said nothing as he picked at his meager meal.

Life for Harry was not looking good. Stuck in jail for no apparent reason, after just graduating from Hogwarts in a time he was not even familiar with was bad. Very bad. Harry was at a loss. Whatever he did, it did not go over really well if everyone was stonewalling him. Looking about the dark and dank cell, Harry couldn't tell what time it was, and lacking the proper sleep, his body was just as disoriented. Harry only hoped it was well into the day, and maybe soon he will gets some answers and not the runaround again.

If Harry was to consider karma being involved with the situations he found himself in- i.e. Voldemort- he must of done something really bad in a previous life. Deciding to get some answers today, he mustered the same mentality he usually reserved for when he was living with the Dursleys and had no other food to eat, he quickly finished the last bite of sticky goo and dropped the spoon back into the bowl with a clank.

Seeing that he was done, the women guard took the tray away but came back a second later.

"Stand and face the wall," she said while pointing her wand at his heart. Harry watched her with trepidation but complied. Being attack while his back was turn was something no decent wizard would do, but lately, he wouldn't put it pass anyone from this era.

Glancing back, Harry could see the guard slightly raise her wand, and much to his relief only did a few more scans. He recognized a few from last night, most likely trying to detect if he armed himself over night.

"Okay," said the women after completing the last charm, "Now if you would come with me, there is someone that wants to see you."

Harry was beyond happy to be leaving the room highly in need of a professional decorator but was curious as to who he was being lead to. Walking back on the same path he took last night, they emerged from the holding cells and walked towards the same room he was stuck in all the day before. Harry groaned silently in frustration.

Being placed once again in the room, Harry sat back in the chair he was quickly associating as his, he set in to be waiting for the long haul. But only a minute after arriving in the room, his mysterious visitor came.

* * *

Arriving in the small and cramped interrogation room, Harry's visitor sat down in the opposite chair and pulled a briefcase onto the table. Harry watched the unknown person as he pulled several files out and shuffled through them. After getting them settled in a fashion only known by the man, He finally looked up at Harry.

"Good morning," said the stout old man, his mustache twitching along with his greeting.

"Depends on where you woke up," said Harry, his grumpiness showing through. Sleeping on the ministry provided bed was not something he wanted to repeat. The floor would have been more comfortable.

"Well," the man paused to look at a file, "James, we have a little problem here. Yesterday, when you came to the ministry, what exactly was your intentions?"

Harry looked at the short man for a moment, trying to decide what to reveal. At last he said, "I came here for help. But evidently I'm not going to get that here."

The man's gray mustache twitched again but he continued on with, "What sort of help were you trying to get from the Department of Mysteries?" The last few words he said in a hushed voice while staring straight into Harry's eyes.

Harry's eyebrows rose at that. Whatever they were holding him hostage for, The department of Mysteries had something to do with it. It was not something that he expected but that particular department had always been secretive in their doings. Harry wondered how much a hundred years had progressed the paranoia that surrounded that part of the ministry.

Since Harry said nothing in return, the man asked another question, "How do you know about the Department of Mysteries?"

Harry could feel the man trying to use Legilimency on him. Harry was getting upset. After so many years of Voldemort trafficking his mind, Harry swore to himself that no one would do it again. Harry quickly put up his shields but answered in honesty but with slight venom, "Because I have been there."

Now it was the short mans turn for the surprise. Whether it was because he knew Occlumency or having been in the Department of Mysteries, Harry didn't know.

"How could you have been in there?" said the man in a breathless whisper, shock been the main emotion on his chubby but wrinkled face.

"Why does it matter?"

Clearing his throat, the man sat back, as if remembering what he was doing. "That detail is not important."

"Just like why your not telling me why I'm being held here?"

"Your being held here," the man said slowly, "because you have broken a number of laws."

"Such as?" Harry shot back in angry. He just walked into the ministry building. How could he get in trouble for that?

Looking at the files before him through thick glasses he said almost boredly, "It says here that you have violated decree number 478, 479 and 621. Any trespassing on any of those would warrant a life sentence in prison."

The man looked up and his eyes were magnified while looking at Harry. They were the same color blue as Albus Dumbledore but lacked the ever present twinkle that he had when looking upon his students.

Folding his arms over his chest Harry asked, "Is anyone going to tell me what that really means or am I to be stuck in a cell for another night?"

Standing up, the stocky man pulled out his wand and perform a number of spells on the walls and door, several which Harry recognized as detection charms. Finishing the last one, the man continued pacing the small interrogation area while nervously rubbing his mustache.

"Mr. Evans, if that is in fact your real name," he gave Harry a meaningful look, "I have been with the Ministry for a number of years, started way before you were even born-" Harry gave a snort at this but the man continue on as if he didn't hear him, "Over the course of the years, things change. Policies get rewritten, decrees are passed and laws are finagled with. And when the dust settles, people forget, new generation arise and the old ways are no longer practiced."

"What does this have to do with me?" asked Harry, wanting the man to straight out tell him.

"You see, a number of things have been purposely forgotten by the masses. Many I'm not at liberty to discuss. The Department of Mysteries is one of them. It's one of the secrets that you should not know about but you do. It would be impossible for anyone to tell you and all physical evidence has been dealt with years ago, but somehow you know and that is why you are in violation of those decrees." The man walked closer to him. Harry could see fear mixed in with fascination swirling throughout his countenance. "How do you know about the Department of Mysteries? It has not been known by a person outside of the Ministry for over 50 years."

Harry was shocked. How could no one know about it? "Why didn't that Miles fellow just ask me that first thing yesterday instead of dragging this out?"

"Because I'm the only one that can. Christopher Miles and a few others that know about this secret are under an oath to never speak of it. And that is why you, coming in and asking for an appointment was somewhat of a shock," laughed the man, finding humor is the situation. Giving Harry an seemingly honest and knowing look, the man said, "I know that you have a secret that you are keeping and whether or not it is the reason you asked for the Department of Mysteries I don't know. But if you were seeking help you may ask for it. This room is secure and whatever you have to say will not be used against you. Wizards honor."

The man sat back down in the chair and watched Harry struggle with a reply. Harry was at odds. Should he tell the man who he was? Did he trust him enough?

"Before I say anything, I want to know who you are and what you do here." The old man answered right away, like he expected the question.

"My name is Charles Spindle and I'm a Furtivus."

Harry only raised an eyebrow in curious incomprehension. "What is that?"

Charles gave Harry a disbelieving look. "You don't know what a Furtivus is? If you somehow know about the Department of Mysteries, surely you know what is it." When Harry said nothing back, Charles continue on with, "Well it's a secret keeper and mystery solver of sorts."

"Oh like a Unspeakable," said Harry finally catching on.

Charles gave a peculiar look, his mustache twitching again. "That phrase has not been used in a very long time. But yes it's the equivalent. Now I think it's about time you start giving me some answers so we can get this situation sorted out."

Giving a relieved sigh, a tired smile grace he face. He found someone who could help him. Harry remembered when he was signing all the waivers and such, that a paragraph at the very end of the document said that in a case of accidental time transportation, to contact someone at the Department of Mysteries immediately and to tell no one else. So far in his quest of help, its been disastrous.

But finally he was going to get some help.

Taking a big breath and releasing it, the dark haired teen said slowly, "Mr. Spindle, the reason I know what the Department of Mysteries is when it is obviously a huge secret here is because in my own time its not. You see I'm from the past."

Charles was frozen in shock. He didn't move an inch for a full minute; He just stared at Harry. Realizing his lack of response he cleared his throat and stood out of his chair again. Turning his back to Harry and looking at the wall, Harry himself had stared at for hours the day before he said, "You mean to tell me you are from the past? How long has it been since you've been missing?"

"Well I was transported to this time two days ago and according to the newspaper I found laying around, I have been a missing person and evidently presumed dead for a hundred years. But for me it was a moment in time." Harry's face was solemn, still not believing he was stuck in the future.

"A hundred years…" Harry heard Charles mutter. He looked at Harry over his shoulder, his thick glasses showing curiosity swimming in his eyes, along with something else Harry couldn't quite place.

Whatever the emotion was, Harry didn't have time to decipher it because Charles turned suddenly and said, "Its all making sense now. Yourself knowing classified information. The identification charms not being able to determine who you were when you came into the ministry..." Charles was pacing the small room while he talked allowed to himself. Harry was worried for a moment that the man was going to ask him his name. Harry decided that exposing himself as a time traveler was one thing, telling Mr. Spindle that he was Harry Potter the once savior of the wizarding world would be something entirely different. But the question never came, much to his relief. Instead Charles continued on with his muttering until Harry got fed up with the lack of action. He was never one to sit on the job.

"Yes, I glad this is making some sense to you now but I think getting back home to my own time is more important," said Harry with agitation, while scowling at the pacing man in front of him.

Stopping his movement Charles Spindle stroked his chin while thinking deeply about something, occasionally taking minute glances in Harry direction.

"Yes, Yes…" he said slowly. "I believe I can help you but it will take a bit of time." Gesturing for Harry to stand up, Charles went on with, "But until then lets get you situated in more…comfortable accommodations."

"What about the decrees that I had supposedly broken?" Harry ask trying to clear the table of everything.

"Well, those are not applied to you, I would assume. Time traveling is a shady area but there is laws protecting those who happen to lose their way so to speak. But don't not worry about that for now and instead lets find you an appropriate room."

Walking up to the door, Charles made to open it, but paused. He then turned to Harry and said, "Let me do a few more scans to make sure nobody heard this conversation. Information like this could do some major damage."

Lifting his wand he completed a few charms over the room and some in Harry's general vicinity, none of which Harry heard or recognized but Charles looked very much pleased at the results. Turning once again to the door, Charles guided Harry by the shoulder outside the interrogation room, waving off the Auror guard outside of the door, who instantly disappeared and the strange duet walked out of the deserted Auror Office. They walked several unfamiliar halls without encountering anyone before Harry spotted a ministry worker they were approaching. The man wore similar robes as Mr. Spindle and Harry assumed that they work together. His thought was confirmed when Charles motioned for him.

Stopping, Charles spoke a few private words with the tall man and quickly turning back to Harry he said, "This man will take you to more suitable quarters that you can stay in for the night and tomorrow we can discuss more of your little problem in full detail and hopefully by then I will have some answers for you also."

A feeling of overcoming relief assaulted Harry. Normally he wouldn't trust the Ministry as far as he could levitate it and after the last few days Harry had been having it would no doubt double the feeling but with his lack of sleep and the promise of cleaner attire, the only thing he felt was a overwhelming feeling of gratitude. He shook Mr. Spindles hand in appreciation and gave a heartfelt thanks. "I don't know how to thank you enough. I only want to go home."

"Well soon enough my boy you will be, if things work out. Now off you go that way, Matthew will show you to your rooms."

Turning and walking away from the old, mustache adorned man, Harry missed the odd gleeful look that overcame his face when he watched Harry's retreating back.

* * *

Charles opened the door in rushed excitement and quickly shut it with as much gusto, his earlier quiet and reserve demeanor forgotten in his enthusiasm. Walking toward the man standing in front of the two-way mirror that looked into the interrogation room, he gave a huge laugh in his unrestrained pleasure. 

"Miles! Did you hear all that?" The older man was practically salivating at the prospects that this new piece of the puzzle that had been presented to the Ministry of Magic.

Christopher Miles was standing in front of the mirror still looking at the chair that was previously occupied by the wonderment of a teen. His arms still crossed in a commanding attitude, the only thing missing from his Head of the Auror division persona was the conquering expression that usually was plastered on his face. Now, standing in the small observation room, it was replaced with silent awe.

When he called Charles Spindle to help with this odd case, he did not expect this outcome. The boy traveling to this time had to be something more than a coincidence. After all the trouble they have experienced…

Finally turning back to the short old man he replied with, "A time traveler from the past is very interesting indeed." Looking fully at Charles he also asked, "What did the scans you did on the teen come up with?"

Charles looked especially gleeful at this. "The scan you asked me to do this morning was confirmed. He cast the color changing charm on himself sometime yesterday-the same charm his wand show when it was analyzed. I'm sure he thought nothing of it when he cast it on himself but if he only knew how illegal it was! But that fact is trivial now. His presence being explained and all." Charles gave a morbid chuckle at how close the teen came to a lifetime imprisonment.

"And the other scan?"

He stopped snickering at this, his eyes shining bright behind his thick glasses, Charles whispered with a wide grin on his face, "He is like no other."

"Good."

* * *

A.N. Over a 130 hits and not one review in sight….

Next Chapter: Tea Time


	5. Tea Time

Disclaimer: I made the meal but didn't grow the ingredients

* * *

_Previously on 'The Few'…_

_Finally turning back to the short old man he replied with, "A time traveler from the past is very interesting indeed." Looking fully at Charles he also asked, "What did the scans you did on the teen come up with?"_

_Charles looked especially gleeful at this. "The scan you asked me to do this morning was confirmed. He cast the color changing charm on himself sometime yesterday-the same charm his wand show when it was analyzed. I'm sure he thought nothing of it when he cast it on himself but if he only knew how illegal it was! But that fact is trivial now. His presence being explained and all." Charles gave a morbid chuckle at how close the teen came to a lifetime imprisonment._

_"And the other scan?"_

_He stopped snickering at this, his eyes shining bright behind his thick glasses, Charles whispered with a wide grin on his face, "He is like no other."_

_"Good._

* * *

Tea Time

By Strawberry22

* * *

Harry followed the man across to what seemed to be a whole different section to the Ministry of magic that he had never set foot upon. It seemed to be tucked away in the back but the interior didn't suffer for that little detail. In fact, if anything, it was decorated better than even the Minister's wing from his own time.

The walls despite being underground, had gorgeous enchanted windows with spectacular views and the noble subjects within the gold framed portraits were obviously done by very talented painters. The persons within the portraits lining the wall watched the two as they walked but Harry ignored them, opting to stare at the back of the man leading him to the rooms he was to be staying in.

Soon enough, the two stopped and the man opened a very ornate looking door with a flick of his wand, and muttered password that Harry didn't catch. Without glancing in, the man turned to Harry and said, "This is where you will be staying for the night. If you need anything just ask for it. And I would suggest that you don't go wandering around and to stay in here until someone sends for you. The wards surrounding this section of the Ministry are very nasty indeed if you go wondering off by yourself." With a sinister smirk the man non to gentle shoved Harry into room and shut the door in his face.

Shaking off the sickening feeling the man left him with, he turned beheld the room he had been pushed into. If the ornate door was a indicate to what type of room it was, Harry would of underestimated it a hundred times over.

Harry sucked in a breath at the glorious beauty of it all. The room was done in rich but subtle colors of burgundy and gold. All the furniture was rich mahogany that accented to room perfectly. The drapes on the magical windows and the furniture had a complex filigree that suited the style of the cream plush carpet that adorned the marble floors.

Walking in slowly to what seemed to Harry was the sitting room, he surveyed the room and took only a minute to peek into the bedroom and bathroom doors before coming back to sit down on a very delicate looking couch. The whole suite was done beautifully and it did not escape Harry's notice that it was Gryfinndor house colors. And the familiarity of it seemed to help calm Harry's frayed nerves. Even after all of Lucius Malfoy's 'donations' to the ministry years before couldn't bring down the noble house of Godric and Harry snickered at the thought of it.

He leaned back and closed his weary eyes. He felt, finally out of his cell and had time to relax, sort of naked without his wand. Since giving up his wand to the aurors, he felt an emptiness without its reassurance of its capabilities. Harry tried ignoring the feeling, but vowed to get it back as soon as it was humanly possible.

Cracking open his eyes after a few minutes of quiet contemplation, Harry looking toward the magical window and could tell by the sunlight streaming past the thick velvet drapes, that it was only a little past noon but with the last day or so events playing back at him in his mind, it felt like the middle of the night.

Harry sat quietly contemplating his future and a way to get to the past for a long while until he was interrupted by his stomach giving off a rather vicious growl. His eye flew open at the sound and he glared down at his midsection. He had not eaten much the day before and the meager meal of gray slop was not very sustaining.

Giving a sigh, Harry stood up from the comfortable couch and glanced around the room for a kitchen or something of that nature. But there was nothing. Harry frowned at the lack of thought of the Ministry. He went to the bedroom to hopefully find some clothes so he could change into after he clean himself off of the grime that seemed to be seeped into every pore of his body.

Harry ignored the rumbling coming from his stomach as he searched through the mahogany wood bureau that sat next to the king size four poster bed in the luxurious bedroom. There was several expensive looking robes available as well as some night clothes for a man or a women. But oddly enough they were all done in the color of plum. Every single article of clothing-even the pants and knockers- was the dark shade of purple.

Storing this tidbit of information in the back of his mind, Harry grabbed some suitable clothing and went to the bathroom. Inside, he found that the burgundy and gold theme continued within the washroom, the tub being the shiny color of gold. The robes and towel next on the rack next to the large tub were the rich burgundy and when he went to touch one of them, it was softer and more plush than any other towel he had ever laid his hands on.

When comparing this bathroom to the prefects one at Hogwarts, even though there bathroom that came with Harry suite was more proper for a single person, everything from the fixtures to the flooring was the prefect's bathroom superior.

Harry quickly stripped after grabbing a fluffy towel and went to turn on the water. But when he got closer, he realized that there was no knobs. There was only dozens of spouts gleaming on the sides of the large bath. Harry once again felt the deep longing for his wand. Before this adventure he had traipsed onto, he never realize how much his wand meant to him.

Sighing out of aggravation, Harry put on one of the fluffy robes and prepared to leave the room to find someone to return his wand to him but was interrupted when a small pop followed by a squeaky voice sounded behind him.

"Is sir in need of any service from Boppy?" the girlish house elf said in a very high-pitched voice.

Harry twirled around in a startled manner, instinctively reaching for the wand that was not there. Realizing his error, Harry instead slid both of his hands into the pockets on the front of the bathrobe and responded with, "Yes I believe you can," said still trying to calm his rapidly beating heart but outwardly a calm exterior, " I was trying to take a soak in the bath here but I'm unable to turn on the faucets."

The house elf opened her mouth to respond when Harry's stomach gave another rumbling growl. The elf only paused for a wide eyed second and with a slight twitch of her floppy ears, she then said in a rush, "Boppy will fetch sir some lunch and will prepare your bath for you," and giving a low bow, Bobby disappeared from the room with a pop.

Harry took this rushed and very short conversation in as he waited for the house elf to return. It seems like he was being treated somewhat fairly-minus the lacking of his wand. The elf popped in again just a moment later with a steaming bowl of soup and a mountain of various rolls. Then the huge eye looked to Harry and asked, "Would sir like to take his bath now?"

Harry gave affirmation and the little elf trotted over to the bathroom and started using her Elvin magic to start to fill the large tub. Christopher Miles had never taken the fates seriously, but when the dark-haired teen going by the name of James came to Ministry the day before, everything changed. Never would he had thought that lady luck was just waiting around the corner of the disaster that was created in the wizarding world. And oh what a mess the Wizarding World was under the normal façade it had. But the Fates proved Miles wrong when James Evan appeared from nowhere. And in this instant he was glad to be proven wrong.

Miles, sitting in his office, had just minutes before, finished all the paperwork on the incident. Taking out his wand, he closed it from any prying eyes by sealing it with top security charm. Officially, James Evans never was held at the Ministry for questioning, and since there was no record to be found under that name, James did not exist. Unofficially, James Evans was now Ministry property.

Any persons involved in James' arrest the day before, had their memory modified and all inquiring Heads of Departments had been sufficiently pacified.

Leaving Mr. Evans in the very capable hands of Christopher Mile and Mr. Spindle. After taking his relaxing bath and eating his fill of the delicious soup, Harry laid down on the plush bed, only intending to close his eye for a moment but was later awoken but a loud knocking on the door to the suite.

Harry jumped up and off the bed in a daze, not knowing where he was. The bedroom was dark, the sun having set hours before. Harry's eyes started to adjust to the dimness of lighting, when he heard the insistent knocking once again. Following the sound, he stumbled across the room and out into the living area. He felt his way to the door and when he arrived at the engraved entrance he turned the handle.

"There you are! I was starting to wonder." said the rude man who showed him his rooms earlier that day. Matthew-Harry believe was what Mr. Spindle called him.

"Well I'm here. Was there something the matter?" Opening the door wider, Harry begrudging invited the man in with the silent gesture. The man walked in and with a barest of flick from his wand, the candles flames sprung to life.

"No I'm here to make sure that you were aware of Mr. Spindle's visit in a few minutes time." said Matthew in a snide tone of voice but then gave a sudden shout. "Boppy!"

The small elf popped in immediately when the man yelled and with a small bow asked humbly, "Yes? How may Boppy help Sir?"

"Fetch some tea for when Mr. Spindle gets here," ordered the tall man.

Harry disliking the taller man even less with each passing moment, piped up and said, "Mr. Spindle is coming? Do you know why?"

Matthew lip went up in disgust and responded with, "Does it look like I'm privy to that sort of information?" He turned and walked out of the room muttering but not before Harry heard him say mockingly, "No, I'm just a lowly guard-sent to protect Mr. Spindle's new pet project." Harry opened his mouth to ask the offensive man what he met by that comment but the ornate door was already slammed shut once again.

Harry growled in frustration but quickly pushed it aside and looked down at his Ministry provide robes that he found within the dresser after his bath earlier that day. Finding them fit for company still, Harry sat down on the sofa and prepared to wait for his guest to arrive.

But it wasn't a moment after the grandfather clock chimed right times, when there was rapping on the door again. Jumping to his feet, Harry opened the door for the second time that evening and making a small wish in his mind, Harry hoped that man on the other side would harbor better company than the previous one did.

Widening the doorway for Mr. Spindle, Harry gesture for the man to come in before he could ask and offered him a seat.

The paunchy man sauntered over to the sofa without ever taking his eyes off of Harry. Boppy popped in without a word a set a silver tea service down on the side table.

"James," said Mr. Spindle, breaking the silence. When Harry stood to serve up some tea for them both, the older man said, "No, allow me. Please sit down and relax."

The rotund man shuffled over to the tea and with his back turned to Harry, he made up them both a cup of tea. "So, James. I have given your problem some thought throughout the day and I have also made some inquiries into some ways for you to return to your time but I'm hitting some brick walls." Coming back over the sofas, Mr. Spindle handed Harry a steaming cup of Earl Grey. Sitting down once again across from the dark haired teen, he continued on with, "We are not accustomed to these types of situations but we are trying our best to help you."

Harry sighed. He was hoping for a quicker solution but obviously Time was a little more tricky than he previously anticipated.

"Isn't there some kind of rule book or something similar? Surely, if I was told to see the Department of Mysteries in my own time in the case of an accident, there would have to some sort of protocol," said Harry.

Mr. Spindle took a sip of his drink before he answered with, "Its been a hundred years since you were told that. Things change and so has that particular department." His mustache gave a nervous tremble as he added, "Immensely." Taking another short sip of his Earl Grey he went on with, "Just be glad that your day ended better than it started."

"Tell me about it." said Harry sincerely glad he was not a prisoner any longer.

"So, when can I have my wand back?" Harry said.

"Your wand is currently being held the Auror office because of your questioning but I can retrieve it soon enough if you are in need of it."

Harry nodded sharply and looking down at his full cup, Harry took the first sip of his drink.

Harry was never an over zealous fan of Earl Grey but he would still take it over Professor Trelawney's perfume tea any day. As the tea easily slid down his throat, Harry was surprised at how much he liked the taste of it. But the cup barely left his lips when he went back for more, not realizing how thirsty he was. He quickly downed the tea in three large gulps, sputtering lightly from the hotness and surprising himself with his eagerness.

After finishing his cup, Harry looked up at Mr. Spindle in embarrassment, but found the old man still watching him with the look in his eye that he had worn when he came in the door just a few minutes before.

Harry put down his cup, glad that Mr. Spindle said nothing of his poor manners and asked, "So how long do you think that it will take before I can return to my own time?"

The older mans mustache twitched in amusement from behind his own cup of tea. Setting down his own cup he replied with, "Only time will tell."

Harry gave a small chuckle but was cut off when he started to feel something different start to creep within him. A sudden urge to totally relax came over him, along with need to rest his eyes. Looking over at Mr. Spindle, the man was watching him even closer than before and didn't blink an eye when Harry suddenly slumped in his seat. Harry was glad he was no longer holding his cup for surely the sudden relaxation of his arms, would of dropped it to the floor already.

Reclining further into the sofa, Harry was laid back at an odd angle but couldn't get enough strength within himself to change it. His eyes slowly drifting shut, Harry's mind shut down of thought, but he could still hear the movement of footsteps coming closer to him. Harry heard Mr. Spindle mutter something but he was cut off from that thought when suddenly his body was shifted to a laying position on the sofa, with his head on the pillowed arm.

"Now that you are more comfortable James, we can begin"

* * *

A.N. It had been a while since I last updated but I'm hoping that the next chapter won't take as long this one did. I could bore you with some excuse to as to why I haven't work on this story in a while but I won't. The only thing I will say is that it was a battle between work and play and obviously work won the battle but not the war. 

Ok its not the best chapter in the world but it had to be done.

Anyway….. I want to thank all the persons that reviewed my last chapter and added me to their C2's and also to say once more:

Please Review!


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